


You Shared the Magic with Me

by prosopopeya



Category: Glee, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Sexting, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-21
Updated: 2012-05-21
Packaged: 2017-11-05 18:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/409892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosopopeya/pseuds/prosopopeya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a sort-of continuation of "As if She'd Return My Call," Blaine and Dean watch "My Little Pony" to pass the time as they wait for Blaine and Kurt to sext enough to lure Otto, the ghost who targets sexually active teenagers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Shared the Magic with Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [msmoocow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmoocow/gifts).
  * Inspired by [As If She'd Return My Call](https://archiveofourown.org/works/304017) by [prosopopeya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosopopeya/pseuds/prosopopeya). 



> I took some liberty with the events of the first fic to adapt them to this prompt.

"The hell is this crap?"

Blaine raises his eyebrows at the large man drinking something that smells very strong from a flask that looks like it was found on the Titanic, and he bites his tongue. Dean's a guest in his house, and he's here to keep Blaine safe from the ghost that's been attacking high school couples who sext. Also, he's heavily armed.

" _My Little Pony_." Blaine looks up from his phone and tries not to blush. Not about the show, though. _My Little Pony_ is undeniably amazing.

"Are you kid-- No. We are not watching this."

Dean holds his hand out for the remote, but Blaine delivers his best no-nonsense face, laced with what Kurt calls "gay derision."

"Excuse me, but if I have to have a pretend sext conversation with my boyfriend under the supervision of a man I met this afternoon, we are watching what I say we watch."

Besides that, he doesn't want to get too carried away. He can't get a boner while watching _My Little Pony_. And a tiny voice inside his mind does not add, _because do boners register on Pinkie Sense?_

\--------------

"So the, uh, the purple one."

Blaine most definitely blushes as he looks up from that text.

"What?"

"The purple one." Dean looks at Blaine expectantly, his eyebrows arched.

"Uh... Twilight Sparkle?"

Nodding, Dean reaches for the bowl of popcorn sitting between them.

"What's with her and the dinosaur dude? Is he her brother or something?"

Blaine scoffs before he realizes he's being judgmental of a grown man's understanding of a children's TV show, but then he checks himself again because aren't ponies and dragons pretty obviously different species? He shouldn't feel bad for the jumble of opinions in his mind right now; his mind is pretty decidedly, ah, elsewhere.

"No, he's a dragon. She's supposed to raise him."

Dean nods, looks at the screen, purses his lips, and nods again, and Blaine blinks at him for a second before his phone buzzes again in his hand. Any recognition of Dean's presence is promptly drowned out for the five minutes it takes Blaine to craft a text that conveys how jealous, pleased, angry, and embarrassed he is that Sam has left Kurt mostly alone -- which means he's free to text however he wants, and however _dirtily_ he wants.

\--------------

"Hey." Dean shoves his shoulder again, and Blaine jerks in surprise. "Hey, is Rainbow Dash gay?"

Blaine refrains from shouting, _OH MY GOD I AM HAVING WHAT COULD BE A MASTER SESSION OF PHONE SEX WITH MY BOYFRIEND RIGHT NOW WOULD YOU SHUT UP ABOUT MY LITTLE PONY_ because 1) that's rude, and 2) he actually does want Dean to enjoy the show. Still. That's how good of a person he is.

"No -- I don't know if ponies _have_ a defined sexuality. Probably in Ponyville, gay marriage isn't even an issue."

Dean frowns, pondering this, and his eyes slide to the screen again. "What, so like, everyone's bi?"

"I don't know if they would even feel the need to define themselves one way or the other," Blaine says with a shrug.

"Huh." Dean slumps back against the cushions.

\--------------

Maybe boners do register on Pinkie Sense, and this is his punishment for nearly thinking of excusing himself to the bathroom so he could hide from Dean. Not that Dean was doing a super good job on the supervision front in the end (understandably -- the episodes with Discord are pretty good).

Blaine picks himself up off the floor and coughs through the clearing smoke in his living room. Dean had said something about salting and burning a corpse, and about how sometimes a meaningful artefact can keep a ghost in this realm, but he and his brother couldn't exactly burn up Otto's mom's last memento of her son. Honestly, the plan in retrospect was not that great, but Dean had managed to send Otto up in a fiery column somehow. Blaine feels a twinge of remorse for his suffering, but also the guy -- ghost -- the ghost-guy had just tried to kill him, twice. He doesn't feel too bad.

Also, his boner is gone. Possibly forever. And sexting will never be sexy again.

"And you're sure Kurt's going to be okay?" Blaine asks for the third time as Dean helps him sweep up the salt that's been scattered around the living room.

Whatever Dean was about to say is interrupted with his phone ringing, and he stops sweeping to answer it.

"Hey, Sammy. I'm on the way, just helping Blaine clean up first... 'Why?' Dude, it looks like Godzilla popped over for a visit. Gimme a minute... I told you. I don't really know what happened, except I set the kid's phone on fire on accident, and then the ghost did his ghost death thing..." Dean sighs and rolls his eyes. "You wanna research, then have at it, Twilight Sparkle. _I'm_  getting a beer."

He hangs up and slips his phone back into his pocket, and he gives Blaine a tight smile.

"Kurt's fine, and you are too. This Otto kid looks dead for good this time." He stoops to right the coffee table. "Anything seems out of the ordinary, you give us a call."

Blaine nods and leans against the back of the couch; he's crashing fast from adrenaline and a dinner that consisted mostly of popcorn and alcohol fumes from Dean's flask.

"You don't have to help if you'd rather leave," he says, despite his exhaustion, and Dean gives him a smile.

"Hey, everypony lends a hand, right?" He grins and winks, and Blaine watches the six-foot-tall hunk of a man who carries a knife in his sock and who left his sawed off shotgun on the couch disappear into the kitchen.

Today's one of those days where he wonders just who exactly is on the writing staff for his life.


End file.
